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I Remember... Pappy’s molasses boiling

ay, s, John and Lottie Callow These are my grandparent e on ridge. They lived a long tim and their friend Julie Ald , in Watauga County. Old Tweetsie Trail in Foscoe

As a child, one of the times I looked most forward to was the time of year the sugar cane got ripe and was ready for stripping on my grandfather’s farm. Every year we all helped to pull the fodder and get the cane ready for grinding. Pappy had an old mule that he kept for plowing and pulling the cane mill. The mule was hooked to the mill, and all day long he would walk round and round grinding the cane. Juice poured from the spout into large cans that Pappy placed under it. Then my grandmother strained the juice and it was ready to pour into the big boiler over the red hot fire. Now the long slow process started of boiling the cane syrup into molasses. We dipped and stirred again and again and finally began to skim off the foam. After the syrup cooked long enough and was thick and black enough to be called molasses, we poured it from the boiler into large tin cans and put the lids on tightly. The most fun of all was the ending of the molasses boiling. Our grandfather made each one of us a wooden paddle with his knife. We all gathered around the boiler and sopped it dry of the hot, new molasses. One thing that always disturbed me a little about the “molassy” boiling was the pity I felt for the poor old mule that had to walk round and round all day long. Marbeth Calloway Church, Boone, Blue Ridge Electric

Bingo! When I was young, my wife and her sister and husband and our kids were always together. Every weekend we were giving birthday parties and having cookouts. Both of our families use wood to heat our houses in the winter, so we would cut wood together. We would go to the beach and camp out. One summer my brother-in-law and his wife and kids were going to the beach. My daughter was 16, and she wanted to go. We didn’t have the money to go. I thought I would go to Sanford to play bingo. I went and won $25 and two free tickets to play the next night. I let my daughter go with me the next night to play bingo. I won $500! My daughter was jumping up and down. I don’t have to tell you I was pretty happy, too. My daughter has grown boys now. But she still talks about that trip to the beach and how we got to go. Robert DeBord, Siler City, Central EMC



We’ll pay $50 for those we publish in the maga zine. We can put even more on our Internet sites, but can’t pay for them . (If you don’t want them on the Internet, let us know.) Guidelines: 1. Approximately 200 words. 2. Digital photos must be at least 600kb or 1200 by 800 pixels. 3. No deadline, but only one entry per househ old per month. 4. Send a self-addressed, stamped envelope if you want yours returned.

5. We pay $50 for each one published in the magazine. We retain reprint rights. 6. Include your name, mailing address and the name of your electric cooperative. 7. E-mail: Or by U.S. mail: I Remember, Carolina Countr y, 3400 Sumner Blvd., Raleigh, NC 27616

26 OCTOBER 2011 Carolina Country

The ghost under the hood “He’ll rise up out of the grave and stroll around the cemetery looking for his lost love.” Yes, that was the rumor about a certain graveyard in Cabarrus County. As a teenager in the 1960s, ghost hunting was popular. I remember one moonlit night some friends, my boyfriend and I went on a quest. We met another couple and we parked both vehicles near the church cemetery. The rumor was that at this burial ground on the night of a full moon, a spirit would rise from the grave. Suddenly, I heard a moaning, but it was only a dog howling in the distance. After 30 minutes and no spirits appearing, we went home. Strangely, when my friend went to leave my house, his car wouldn’t start. We woke up my parents, and Daddy looked at the sedan. The automobile would not make a sound when they tried to crank it. My father took my date home. The next morning, my boyfriend and his father brought over a new car battery. Before installing it, they decided to see if the car would start. The motor purred like a kitten. My family rolled with laughter and said, “I guess the ghost got under the hood of the car, and you never saw him.” That was the last of our phantom searching escapades. Mary Kay Cox, Four Oaks, South River EMC


Volume 43, No. 10, October 2011


Volume 43, No. 10, October 2011